Redesigning your Life around your values

Redesigning Your Life Around Your Values

You’re stuck somewhere in your life. In debt, in conflict, something’s just happened, and you’re running on autopilot just to get through the day. If any of that sounds familiar, I’m asking you to stop, take a real break, and get clear on your personal values.

I can guess you’re having some version of the thoughts I had in that exact spot: that’s crazy, I don’t have time to stop, I’ve got things to take care of, and if I pause for myself even for a minute, everything’s going to fall apart.

So you keep going. You force your way through a life you don’t actually buy into, not deep down.

You can do that for a long time. I did. Then I hit my wall: divorce. I got there because I wasn’t clear on my own values, my ex wasn’t clear on his, and naturally, neither of us was clear with each other. We were both living in a situation neither of us liked or understood, and we took that confusion out on each other instead. It’s not hard to see, looking back, how we ended up exactly where we did.

Eventually, the cost of not living according to your values surfaces one way or another. A lot of us seem to hit that particular wall in our forties. Midlife crisis, anyone? My ex and I were together ten years before we got married, and we managed fine that whole time; there wasn’t much at stake yet. Then we got married and suddenly had real decisions to make together. Getting married probably should have been the first hard one, but we assumed it couldn’t be that difficult since we’d coasted so long without much friction. We bought a house. We had kids. We moved countries, then moved back. Then we got divorced.

I’m grateful for the divorce now, since it forced me to actually go looking for my values in the first place. I finally made the connection: setting myself aside was driving my unhappiness all along. I spent months resisting the whole process of figuring out what my values even were, and now I spend my time retraining myself to actually operate from them. I still struggle with it. But I know it’s the only way forward.

I can hear the excuses you’re building right now, because I build the same ones for myself most days, excuses to quietly slide back into my old patterns. But I can’t unsee the connection between setting myself aside and my own unhappiness, and I can’t undersell how much joy shows up when this new way of living actually works, because I’m finally living according to what I actually value.

Building a new habit takes real time, and it’s easy to slip back into the old one. Consider this another nudge toward redesigning your life around your actual values.

I’m (Not) Worried About You

I’m (Not) Worried About You

“I’m worried about you.”

I’ll never forget when someone said that to me. It was the last day of my back-to-work training course, and the facilitator looked at me with genuinely understanding eyes and said, “I worry about you.”

Out of twenty women in that class, she worried about me specifically. Being an introvert, I couldn’t bring myself to ask why in the moment, I needed to go home and sit with it first. By the time I’d processed it enough to want an answer, she was already gone from my life, and asking why she’d worried about me over email felt like the wrong way to find out.

So I came up with my own reasons instead, and they weren’t good ones. I talked myself into believing there was something genuinely wrong with me, not a great thing to be telling yourself, especially in circumstances plenty of people would already call worrying: recently divorced, two young kids, trying to re-enter the workforce from scratch.

Fortunately, that same course had also paired me with a coach. She told me I was fantastic and going to be a real success. Guess who I eventually called back?

It took a while, two months of quietly worrying about myself before I couldn’t take it anymore. When I finally reached a breaking point, I knew exactly who to call: the person who’d actually made me feel good about myself.

That’s the approach I’ve always tried to bring to my own work with people. Not a financial coach who makes someone feel bad about their spending habits, but someone who sits down with them, helps them find the path that actually fits their life, and then genuinely cheers them on to get there.

The People Pleaser trap

The People Pleaser Trap

I got to start over- thank you, divorce- and my first real step in starting over was figuring out who I actually was and what I valued. I know by now that if I’m not living according to my own values, I end up unhappy, unmotivated, and generally unsuccessful at whatever I’m trying to do.

I keep seeing this exact lesson play out in conversations with other people too, over and over.

Today it happened again.

I volunteer in a few different capacities, and this particular morning I woke up to an email from one volunteer coordinator telling me I wasn’t needed that week, after I’d already set the time aside. I also had an email waiting from a fellow volunteer, unhappy about how the whole thing was being coordinated.

Perfect, I thought. I could help sort this out.

I carefully wrote an email to the coordinator, thanking her for everything she’d been doing, and gently asking if she could clarify how she decided who volunteered each week, since it wasn’t clear to me, and probably wasn’t clear to others either. Maybe a quick note to everyone would help, I suggested, just to head off any resentment building quietly under the surface.

I must not have been the only one sending emails like that, because what came back was long and defensive. At the very end, she asked if I wanted the job.

Not exactly what I was expecting. I drafted an even more careful reply, apologizing that my note had apparently landed as an attack.

She wrote back with an even longer email and asked again if I wanted the job. She hadn’t wanted this role to begin with. She’d been strong-armed into it. Everyone was complaining. And so on.

I genuinely felt for her. She’d taken on something she didn’t want, and I understood exactly why, because at one point in her email she said it herself: “I’m a people pleaser.”

Oh, I know that one well. If there’s one thing guaranteed to pull you away from your own values, it’s being a people pleaser. You end up living according to someone else’s idea of what you should be doing, instead of your own.

She’d taken the job to please someone, clearly not herself, since she was practically being dragged to her computer to wrangle a schedule nobody was happy with. And instead of thanks for the effort, she was getting nothing but complaints, desperate to hand the whole thing off to literally anyone. If nobody stepped up, she’d probably just keep doing it anyway, since quitting would mean disappointing people.

I hoped, for her sake, that she’d quit regardless of whether a replacement ever turned up. I hoped she’d see it as taking a stand for herself, a real learning moment, rather than as letting people down. It would’ve given her the opening to start fresh, and to fill that space with something she actually wanted to be doing, something she’d have a real shot at being happy and good at.

A first step out of the people-pleasing pattern, and a step toward finally hearing her own actual values underneath it.

You’re Divorced? Congratulations!

You’re Divorced? Congratulations!

You’re Divorced. Congratulations.

What do you actually say when someone tells you they’ve separated? I’ve started thinking “congratulations” might be the right response, but I still haven’t managed to say it out loud. I still default to “I’m sorry.” Probably because I’ve been through it myself, and I know exactly how much it hurts.

What would I have done if someone had congratulated me? A lot of people tried some version of it, in their own way. Friends and family told me I’d be better off, happier, that things would get easier eventually. I didn’t believe a word of it. What did they know? They hadn’t lived it. They were all still tucked safely inside their own marriages, good or bad, and I mentally argued with every reassurance, twisting reality until I’d convinced myself separation really was as soul-destroying as it felt.

The people who actually were divorced looked on with more genuine commiseration. Yes, it’s hard, they’d say, and it takes at least two years, sometimes three, to really get past it. One man told me he considered himself lucky, since at least his job had stayed constant while everything else in his life fell apart around him. All I could think was: great, I’m getting divorced, and I don’t even have that. I’d been a stay-at-home mom before all this started, and now everyone was telling me I’d need to give that up entirely and go find paying work on top of everything else.

I spent well over a year in real misery. A year and two months, if we’re being precise. Then I hit a point where I finally thought: I do not want to keep feeling this way.

The thought that kept looping through my head during that stretch was: I’ve been a good person, I followed all the rules, I did everything I was supposed to, and my life is still a disaster.

Realizing that everything I’d done “right” up to that point had still led me exactly here was what finally pushed me to try something different. I felt like I had nothing left to lose. I was already in so much pain that it was hard to imagine feeling any worse, no matter what I tried next.

Oddly, that thought turned out to be motivating rather than bleak. I effectively got a blank slate. Nothing I did from that point forward could realistically make things feel worse than they already did, which meant I was suddenly free to try things I never would have risked before. There was genuinely nowhere to go from there but up.

Finding my new way forward has been real work, and genuinely hard, but it’s also been hopeful the whole way through. These days I think of my divorce as the actual beginning, the push I needed to build a life designed by me instead of dictated by everyone else’s expectations. So now, when I tell people I’m newly divorced, I remind them: congratulations is the right response.